Keep Your Head Up
by Butterfly Kitty
Summary: A songfic about Sam and Freddie. I do not own Keep Your Head Up, that belongs to Andy Grammar.


**I do not own iCarly OR Keep Your Head Up. Got it?**

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><p><em><span>I've been waiting on the sunset<span>  
><span>Bills on my mindset<span>  
><span>I can get deny theyre getting high<span>  
><span>Higher than my income<span>  
><span>My income's breadcrumbs<span>  
><span>I've been trying to survive<span>_

I sighed, resting my head on a pillow on Carly's couch. I was mumbling in my sleep in her bed, kicking and thrashing, and Carly kicked me out of her room.

Sometimes... sometimes when I was bored my mind lept to the fact that I came from a really bad family who taught me the way they acted. Like when my father decided he was going on a crime spree, and left us in the dust, found a new lady, remarried, and had more kids. Like when my Uncle George had told me when I was young to, "Do what's right, which is get revenge on the person who hurt you." I could just hear his voice now; _Sammy... go ambush Freddie for waking you up the other night..._

_The glow that the sun gives  
>Right around sunset<br>Helps me realize  
>This is just a journey<br>Drop your worries  
>You are gonna turn out fine.<br>Oh, you'll turn out fine.  
>Fine, oh, you'll turn out fine.<em>

I really didn't care what my relatives thought, though sometimes, sometimes I let them get into my head. I got off the couch and rounded to my backpack.

_"Sam, ambush, now!" _Uncle George commanded in my head. I sighed, relenting, and grabbed my paintball gun. Then Freddie's oh-so-adorable face popped into my head, his brown eyes melting my heart.

"He's so hot..." I whispered.

_"Sam, I'm gonna kill you for having those thoughts!" _Uncle George screamed.

"Well, too bad punk, you're already dead!" I said out loud. Spencer, who was sleeping on a chair after working on one of his sculptures, stirred in his sleep. My hand slapped over my mouth as I realized how loud I had said that.

_But you gotta keep your head up, oh,_  
><em><span>And you can let your hair down, eh.<span>_  
><em><span>You gotta keep your head up, oh,<span>_  
><em><span>And you can let your hair down, eh.<span>_

I shoved my blond curls out of my face and dropped the paintball gun back in my backpack. I wouldn't, I couldn't. I didn't care what my Uncle George persuaded me to do. He was dead, he died setting off a bomb in a cruiser boat. I wasn't anything like that... was I? Shrugging, I walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge quietly. I grabbed leftover fried chicken. Not caring whether it was cold or not, I unwrapped it and bit down into it, letting the cold taste of fried, well, not fried chicken seep into my mouth.

_"SAM! AMBUSH FREDDIE!" _Uncle George demanded. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shut out Uncle George's persuading demands. A new voice rang into my mind.

_"Don't do it Sam... don't do it..." _It was Melanie, my twin sister, who had been killed in a car crash five weeks ago. I blinked back tears, wait, _tears? _Since when did I, Sam Puckett, probably tougher than the toughest muscled football player, ever have tears? Oh wait, that was what Freddie thought. He doesn't know I have actual feelings. To him I'm just Sam Puckett, a bully and nothing more than that. What he doesn't know is that I have actual feelings, sad feelings, romantic feelings, mad feelings. And he has no idea what it's like to be basically controlled by your ancestors.

_I know it's hard, know its hard,_  
><em>To remember sometimes,<em>  
><em>But you gotta keep your head up, oh,<em>  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>

What would Carly think if she knew Sam's every thought. Sam shook her head and pulled a bobby pin out of her mess of hair, throwing out the now empty wrapper and sneaking out of Carly's apartment. I went across to Freddie's apartment, and started picking the lock.

_"That's it Samster. Pick the lock, ambush Freddie. Do it, or I'll haunt you," _Uncle George teased.

"Shut up. You already do haunt me," I growled. I finally heard a click and pushed the door open, knowing that his mom would be out working. I snuck to Freddie's bedside and looked down at him... almost _fondly. _He looked so cute when he was sleeping!

_I've got my hands in my pockets,_  
><em>Kickin these rocks.<em>  
><em>Its kinda hard to watch this life go by.<em>  
><em>I'm buyin in the skeptics,<em>  
><em>Skeptics mess with, the confidence in my eyes<em>

Life was confusing me. Was I here to prank Freddie, or was I here to drool over his immense cuteness? And... what... was I doing here anyway?

_"Go back and get your paintball gun out of your backpack. You'll get him for sure!" _Uncle George hissed. But I couldn't move my feet! It was like I was stuck to the ground to watch Freddie snore. I sighed, and he stirred, giving a weak smile.

_"GET THE GUN!" _Uncle George roared.

"Shut up," I said, too loudly. Freddie opened his eyes and stared up at me. My stomach had butterflies, but I managed to squeak out a weak, "hi?"

"Sam..." Freddie mumbled.

"Er... yes, that's me," I said, my voice high-pitched. I mentally punched myself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"Puckett, why are you here?" Freddie asked.

_I'm seeing all the angles, starts to get tangled_  
><em>I start to comprimise<em>  
><em>My life and the purpose.<em>  
><em>Is it all worth it,<em>  
><em>Am I gonna turn out fine?<em>  
><em>Oh, you'll turn out fine.<em>  
><em>Fine, oh, you'll turn out fine.<em>

"Erm..." I searched my brain for a possible answer. "I... I lost my... my spare cellphone in here!" I lied.

"Sam, the last time you were here was three months ago," Freddie reminded me.

"I just remembered my spare when my other one died," I lied. While he was looking at his alarm clock, I slid my cell phone under his bed, thinking of how gross this was.

"Sam, it's 10:15 at night. Why would you need a cell phone?" Freddie asked.

"I'm arranging a date with this guy," I said quickly. _Lord, what was I getting myself into?_

"Oh." Freddie's face fell... almost in disapointment.

_But you gotta keep your head up, oh,_  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>  
><em>you gotta keep your head up, oh,<em>  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>

"Who's the guy?" he asked.

"Err... no one..." I said. _Stupid Freddie stupid lies stupid phone stupid couch stupid mother stupid thoughs stupid Uncle George stupid EVERYONE!_

"How can you be arranging a date with no one?" Freddie asked.

"That's not important, Freddie," I growled. "Oh, I think I see my phone." My hand shot under his bed (grossgrossgross!) and I wrapped my fingers around the cell phone I had slid under there. In my distraction Freddie somehow managed to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked.

_I know it's hard, know its hard,_  
><em>To remember sometimes,<em>  
><em>But you gotta keep your head up, oh,<em>  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>

"That's your regular phone. What's going on?" Freddie said. I blushed a bright red. He can't know I came in here to see him looking cute in sle... whoa whoa Sammy. Mama never had feelings for nubs like him!

_Only rainbows after rain_  
><em>The sun will always come again.<em>  
><em>Its a circle, circling,<em>  
><em>Around again, it comes around again.<em>

_Only rainbows after rain_  
><em>The sun will always come again.<em>  
><em>Its a circle, circling,<em>  
><em>Around again, it comes around,<em>

"Um... I have two of a kind?" I tried. Freddie pulled me closer.

"You know how I feel about a certain blonde. Just tell me the truth," he said.

"It's nothing!" I protested. Suddenly, my negative thoughts blew away in a flash. Freddie's lips pressed on mine, and I saw his eyes closed. Without thinking I pressed back. He had guessed. Uncle George's screams, once echoing my thoughts, were quenched with the warm sensation of Freddie's lips against mine.

_But you gotta keep your head up, oh,_  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>  
><em>you gotta keep your head up, oh,<em>  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>

"Why don't you sleep with me? It's better than Carly's couch anyway," Freddie said. Almost instantly our eyes met. I stared into his chocolate brown eyes with passion as I replied, "I'd like that very much." I pulled myself in his bed so we could still see each other perfectly.

"My mom's taking care of my aunt, who has a rash," Freddie explained. I rested my head below the pillow, near his shoulder. He stroked my hair affectionately.

_I know it's hard, know its hard_  
><em>To remember sometimes,<em>  
><em>But you gotta keep your head up, oh,<em>  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>

_Keep your head up, oh,_  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>  
><em>Keep your head up, oh,<em>  
><em>And you can let your hair down, eh.<em>  
><em>Keep your head up, oh,<em>  
><em>And you can let your hair down.<em>

We both fell asleep like that, his hand on my head, my head nestled at his neck. And never once did Uncle George enter my mind in my dreams, screaming at me. Love really does work wonders, doesn't it?

* * *

><p><strong>Well there you have it. I thought this song suited Sam well, since she's bold and proud, despite her messed-up family.<strong>


End file.
